


serious relationships

by DeconstructedIronhide (InsertCoolName)



Series: courting a Constructicon [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, BV Ironhide, Background Relationships, G1 Constructicons, Gen, Hook is not paid enough for this shit, Ironhide gets a bit upset, M/M, Other, Past Relationship(s), Relationship Discussions, Unhealthy Relationships, applies to one of the past relationships, ish? I mean, not 'Hide/Mix or anything, not that he's paid at all really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:26:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertCoolName/pseuds/DeconstructedIronhide
Summary: “If this turns into a discussion about your sexual exploits I am kicking you out of my medbay.”Ironhide doesn't really know what he's doing, courting Mixmaster.Hook doesn't see why it matters. Or why Ironhide's talking tohimabout it.





	serious relationships

**Author's Note:**

> A 'tell me' drabble requested by and featuring @underconstructicons' Hook. As usual, not beta read, so mistakes are mine and mine alone.

“...I don’t actually know what I’m doing here. I hope you know that.”

“Funny. I’ve heard enough about your Ratchet to feel safe in assuming you’ve helped _clean_ _a_ _medbay_ before.”

“Well, yes, I _have_ , but... that wasn’t what I meant.”

Hook turns to face Ironhide with a narrowed optic band. Ironhide doesn’t look at him, focused intently on the cupboard he’s sorting and reorganizing it with a frown on his faceplates. Hook waits for him to elaborate, and when he doesn’t, impatiently asks, “Then what _do_ you mean?”

“I’ve only been in two other serious relationships - _courtships_.”

It takes a lot of willpower for Hook not to sigh. He turns back to his workstation and continues to clean his tools. “And?”

“And they failed.”

“ _Obviously_.”

“I mean, the one with Ratchet didn’t end badly,” Ironhide continues, either ignoring Hook’s sarcasm or too deep in thought to even notice it. “I got the best amica I could ever ask for out of it. And it was good while it lasted. _Really_ good.”

“If this turns into a discussion about your sexual exploits I am kicking you out of my medbay.” Ironhide apparently has the common sense - or the shame - to fall silent. Hook sighs, losing the battle to keep it in. “Why did your courtship with Ratchet fail?” he asks. He can’t say he particularly cares or wants to know why, but Ironhide must have a reason for bringing this all up.

“It was just a mutual decision,” Ironhide says, sounding chastised. “We tried, it didn’t work, we decided that we’d make better friends than partners... we bonded as amica endurae almost immediately afterward.”

“...do you regret it?”

“Hell no.”

“Then why does it matter?”

Ironhide hesitates. Then, quietly: “I guess it doesn’t.”

Hook’s band narrows. Ironhide doesn’t sound like he’s too sure about that. The medic finishes up with his tools, carefully puts them into their designated drawers, and goes over to the shelf next to Ironhide and begins to sort there. Ironhide doesn’t say anything else, and for a short while, neither does Hook.

“What about the other one?” he finally asks. Ironhide visibly jumps.

“Huh?”

“The other courtship. What happened with that one?”

“Oh. Uh, that one--that one didn’t work either.”

Hook glances over to give Ironhide an unimpressed look. The weaponsmith, again, doesn’t look back at him, but there’s a slightly uncomfortable expression on his faceplates that has Hook’s optic band narrowing even further. This time he doesn’t ask for Ironhide to continue, but waits patiently.

Ironhide finishes working in the cupboard before he finally speaks again.

“It was back in Simfur,” he starts, staring down at the last canister of medical grade oil on the counter. “When I was a guard. One of the priests of the temple I worked in--the _high_ priest--took an interest in me. It was entirely consensual,” he adds before Hook can ask. “And mutual. I liked them. They... I think they liked me.”

“You _think_ they liked you?”

Ironhide picks up the canister.

“I know they did,” he amends, optics scanning the cannister’s label. “But... not for the right reasons.” He puts it in its correct spot in the cupboard. “They liked me because I was good at my job. One of Simfur’s best at the time,” he huffs, shaking his helm. He says it like it’s an unfortunate fact. “They liked me because it made them look good. Taking in a cold construct and giving him the resources he needed to better himself - they’re the one that got me _out_ of Simfur in the first place. Helped me get into the Academy.”

“I see,” Hook says slowly, although he isn’t quite sure he does. “And you courted this mecha?”

“Yeah. Well-- _they_ courted _me_ , but I don’t think it really matters. I would’ve courted them if they hadn’t gotten to it first.”

“...right.”

Ironhide’s helm jerks and he finally looks up at Hook. “I was young and stupid and I thought I was in love,” he says, almost defensively. “What can you expect? I--”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Hook says, waving a servo to interrupt Ironhide. “I get it. It wasn’t a good courtship.” Ironhide looks away once more. Hook sighs - _again_. “OK. So do you regret that one?”

“No.” Hook’s optic band flickers in surprise at the immediate reply. “I don’t. What Igneous and I had wasn’t--it was love, I loved them and I really do think they loved me, but not the right way. And I’m glad I found that out. It took me a long time to realize it, but I did, and then I met Ratchet. And we loved each other, too. It just ended up being a different kind of love. And I’m glad I found that out, too.”

“Then what’s _this_ \--” Hook motions towards their general surroundings; his annoyance is quickly returning “--have to do with anything? So you’ve had a few bad relationships. Who hasn’t? So what?”

“So what if I frag this up with Mixmaster?” Ironhide challenges. If Hook had optics he would’ve rolled them.

“I guess you frag it up then! You’ll get over it. _Mix_ ’ll get over it. Maybe you’ll make up. Maybe not. Either way, that’s just how relationships work. That’s just--”

Why is Hook doing this. He’s a _medic_ , not a _psychiatrist._ He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this kind of scrap - not that he’s really paid for anything in the first place.

Hook pinches his nasal ridge. “Look,” he says lowly, trying to get his thought in order. “I don’t know if this is you blaming yourself for what happened with Igneous and Ratchet or _what it is_ \--” he glares at Ironhide when the weaponsmith opens his intake, no doubt to argue “--and I am really not qualified _to_ know, so all I’m going to ask is this: what about Mixmaster. Do you regret him?”

Ironhide flinches away like he’s been slapped in the face.

“ _No_!”

“Alright then.” Hook turns. “Problem solved.” Behind him, the weaponsmith sputters.

“Problem solved?! How has that fixed anything?”

“I said _problem solved_ , not _fixed_. There’s a difference. I, for one, don’t see anything that needs to be fixed. But if _you_ do then _you_ should be the one to fix it.” Hook shrugs, making his way to another shelf. “You don’t regret Mixmaster, and I think that’s all that matters. Whatever you guys have may end up backfiring, and you guys might end up like you and Igneous did or you might end up like you and Ratchet - or it’ll end up fine. Simple as that. _You’re_ the one making a big commotion about it all.”

Ironhide remains silent, stunned. Hook’s glad. He’s running out of things to say.

He probably could’ve handled Ironhide talking about his sexual exploits better than he can _this_.

“You sound a lot like him.”

Hook twitches. “Excuse me?”

“Ratchet. He’d’ve said something similar. That, and just to get my helm out of my aft.”

“It’s a grumpy medic thing,” Hook grouses. He exvents a sigh one last time, and looks back at Ironhide. “Are you going to help me finish up in here or not?”

Ironhide wordlessly heads for the next row of cupboards, passing Hook as he does. Hook frowns, swearing he can almost feel the brush of a thankful EM field, but shakes his helm. Ironhide wouldn’t be thanking him by the time they were done.


End file.
